Edestone had now been at the Embassy for about a week and was wondering what would be the next move on the part of the German General Staff.
He knew that General von Lichtenstein was not waiting for the return of the Emperor, for he was in Berlin. In fact he had seen him driving past the Embassy in his big automobile with the General. Edestone was just coming out, and although he was not certain, he thought that the General had recognized him, for he leaned over and spoke to the Emperor, who looked straight at the American.
He had heard nothing, but from what the different officers at the clubs had dropped, he was confident that he had not been forgotten. These had all received him with great show of cordiality, and among Count von Hemelstein’s friends there had sprung up a certain friendliness, which he knew was due to the Count’s influence. The Count himself, on the other hand, seemed now to be a little bit ill at ease when in his presence. He said to Edestone one night after he had been drinking quite heavily:
“Mr. Edestone, it is a great pity that you have come over here and mixed up in our troubles. It is too late now, however; you could not get out if you tried,” and then with a sneer, “not even if you called to your assistance Princess Wilhelmina, who seems to take so much interest in you.”
Edestone decided that the German General Staff were preparing their answer to the new condition that had been brought about by his invention, and that they were waiting for additional information before delivering it. He knew that they must realize that some action must be taken, but with the forethought for which they were so celebrated they were preparing the way. When they had satisfied themselves that they were in possession of all of the facts that could be gotten without his assistance, and had looked at these from every possible standpoint, he would be sent for, and not until then.
Several days after his sight of the Emperor, Edestone, in passing through the halls of the Embassy, was approached by one of the German servants, who in a rather mysterious manner handed him a note, which read as follows:
He knew that Princess Wilhelmina was in Berlin. Lawrence had seen her at the house of Princess Adolph, and in his joking way had said that she had inquired very particularly after the American inventor, and that Count von Hemelstein, who thought he was the “candy kid,” was very jealous.
But why had she sent for him? he thought. When he spoke to Lawrence, he in his usual jocular manner exclaimed: “Ah, so now you are to have Kaffee Klatsch with the Princess. I told you so. The lady is in love with you, and the Emperor is going to offer you her hand in marriage after he has bestowed on you an Iron Cross in return for one of your quack medicines.”
Edestone, who declined to take any notice of this, thoughtfully said: “Can it be possible that she also is a traitor? She cannot imagine for one moment that she will be able to accomplish what her father was unable to do, but God gives women confidence in themselves to compensate them for the fact that nobody else has.” With an impatient gesture, “No, no, Lawrence, that is impossible! That sweet little child!”
“Ah!” said Lawrence, “so little Willie Westinghouse has fallen for the baby stare?”
“You are absurd, Lawrence,” said Edestone with a rather embarrassed expression. “It is perfectly clear. She feels deeply her father’s disgrace, and perhaps she thinks that I might do something to help her to exonerate him.”
“Well,” said Lawrence, “I don’t think there is any satisfaction in being a hero in Berlin while being locked up in the Tower in London like her father, but you are the limit. You talk as quietly of using your influence for a Prince of the Royal Blood with the King of England as if she were asking you to get her brother a position on the New York police force. God certainly gave you confidence in yourself.”
“There is nothing very strange about that,” replied Edestone. “As I understand it, the only thing that they have against the Duke of Windthorst is that he was dining with Rebener and myself, and were I to state that at no time during the dinner had he shown any disloyalty to his King and country, it might do a little good. But whatever it is, we will go and see this afternoon.”
About half-past five they were driven to the handsome residence occupied by Princess Adolph when in Berlin.
They were immediately shown into a large and beautiful room in the style of Louis XVI., which had evidently been designed and executed by a French artist. It was free from the brutal touch which the Germans show in their attempt at the refinement of the French Renaissance of that period.
They were received by Princess Adolph, a very striking young woman, who shocked all of Berlin by affecting French clothes, French language, and a French mode of life. She was surrounded by some of the dashing young officers of the very exclusive army set. These glared through their monocles when the Americans were announced and did not try to hide their annoyance.
Lawrence, without taking the slightest notice of these “Knights of the Butchered Face,” as he called them, with his usual careless and frivolous manner, went over to the Princess and immediately began to shower upon her in the most effusive manner compliment after compliment, which she received with laughter. She rather prided herself on shocking Berlin by pretending to be tremendously interested in this wild young American.
The Princess turned to Edestone and extended her hand. He had hesitated; he resented the manner of her young gallants, and feared that they might, with their usual rudeness to Americans in the presence of women, put him into an embarrassing position. Smiling she said:
“I welcome you, Mr. Edestone, as the greatest lion of them all in this den of lions,” and with a reproving frown she waved her hand at the officers who were so poorly hiding their annoyance.
She then turned to Princess Wilhelmina, who was seated behind a large table and was pouring out a cup of coffee, which she continued to do when she saw Edestone until it was called to her attention that the cup was full as well as the saucer.
“Billy,” she nodded, “you and Mr. Edestone are old friends. Give him a cup of tea; I know he does not like Kaffee und Schlagsahne.”
The little Princess, who was very much embarrassed, extended her hand, which Edestone took and seated himself beside her.
This scene might have been enacted in an English country house if it had not been so entirely different. The Germans, in their effort to affect certain charming English customs and Germanize them, in the process lose the charm. Tea time for the Englishman is the hour of relaxation after a day in the open, when he can in his easy clothes receive the homage of the ladies in their beautiful tea-gowns. Whereas here, these men in their tight-fitting and uncomfortable uniforms, were attitudinizing and indulging in that military form of gallantry, which may be picturesque but certainly looks most uncomfortable.
The entrance of the Americans had thrown a chill upon the entire company. The officers simply refused to open their mouths, and sat glaring at the two intruders.
Edestone, after having made several attempts to relieve the situation, relapsed into silence. The feeble efforts of the Princess Wilhelmina but added to the atmosphere of restraint which she was unable to dispel.
Princess Adolph up to this time had been entirely monopolized by Lawrence, but catching an appealing look from her English cousin, came to the rescue at last. She was apparently in the secret, and in a most natural manner called upon Princess Wilhelmina to show Mr. Edestone her new French garden, which she said had been laid out by a young American studying at the École des Beaux Arts.
Princess Billy, who by this time was in such a state of excitement that she could scarcely get up from where she was sitting, and as if to postpone as long as possible the meeting which she had brought upon herself, managed to say:
“I don’t think that Mr. Edestone is interested in such simple things as flowers,” but catching the glance that was thrown at her by Princess Adolph she continued with a nervous little laugh: “Come, Mr. Edestone, I hope I shall be able to explain everything to you properly.”
When the timid little figure led the way and was followed by that of the big man with his dignified bearing, one might almost imagine that it was an indulgent father taking his very frightened little daughter out to give her a lecture.
When they were on the outside and alone, as she stopped and grasped the balcony to support herself she said, looking up into his face with eyes in which tears were gathering:
“Oh, Mr. Edestone, I don’t know what to say! I don’t know what you will think of me. I know you hate all of us and especially me.”
“Oh, don’t say that, Princess!” interrupted Edestone, moved to pity for the poor little child who seemed to him, as he looked down into her sweet little face, almost young enough to have been his own daughter.
“Oh yes you do; I know you do! But I am not what you think I am,” and in a very hurried manner, looking about her, she continued, lowering her voice: “I am no traitor to my country, and I know that what my father did he did because he believed it was his duty.”
“Oh, Princess Wilhelmina!” said Edestone, as if to stop her on this most disagreeable subject.
“Please do not call me Princess in that sarcastic manner. I hate being a Princess! I know you hate all of our class, and believe that we are all as heartless as we are sometimes forced to appear. But it is not of that that I wish to speak. My sole object in sending for you is to tell you that I know you are in great danger, and to beg—I mean advise—you to leave Berlin at once. I know that you believe I am working for them, and in fact I could not have arranged this interview unless I had left them under the impression that I was, but I don’t care. Please go before it is too late.”
Edestone, who at first thought that she might have been playing a part, was now convinced of her sincerity. “My dear little Princess Billy,” he said, leaning over and with great effort resisting his inclination to take her hand, “is that why you sent for me?”
“Yes,” she blushed and smiled when he used the familiar form of address, “I have heard that you were going to be killed, and I was determined to warn you, so I pretended to be working for them. Now please go before it is too late.”
“But, Princess, why did you take all of this risk for me?”
“Oh, I don’t know; but I must show you the garden. I hope that you won’t think I am very forward.”
She then hurriedly passed into the garden and gave him in a very rapid and disconnected manner a description of the different plants, fountains, statues, etc. She hurried back into the drawing-room, but just before reaching the other group, she said in an undertone:
“Now, won’t you promise me that you will leave Berlin at once?”
Before he had time to answer they were joined by Princess Adolph.
The Americans remained for a few moments and then took their leave. The little Princess, as she put her icy cold hand in his, gave him an appealing look.
The Secretary came in with a very grave face one morning after having had a long talk with the German Chancellor.
“Do you know, Jack,” he said, “I think the German Government intends to declare war on us, and I would not be a bit surprised if she proposes to strike first and declare afterwards. Their newspapers, and they are all inspired by the Government, you know, are working up a strong anti-American feeling, and this I think is done in order that when they do strike the Government may have the entire country back of it. Have you noticed, too, that they are constantly increasing the guard around the Embassy, which is either to save us or to catch us? Is it possible that your nonsense has got anything to do with all this? By Jove, Jack, I think it is about time that you told me what you are up to.”
Edestone considered for a moment. “When you tell me that you are absolutely certain that they are going to strike, I will tell you, William, and not before. You know enough now, however, to realize that those soldiers outside are to catch and not protect. It is me that they want, though, and not you. Your position is perfectly safe and unassailable so long as you do not know too much.”
That ended the discussion for the time, but Lawrence came in one night in a state of great excitement. He had just seen some woman who, he rather intimated, was a little bit fond of him, and who was also very closely connected with certain high officials. She had told him, he said, apparently joking although he knew she was in earnest, that she hoped her pretty boy would not mix up with this man Edestone, or he might get into trouble too.
“‘They are only allowing us to stay in Berlin,’ she said, ‘until they get you, Jack,’” declared Lawrence, “and then we will have to go, the whole lot of us.”
In the meantime things were going from bad to worse. The Secretary was getting more and more anxious. Reports of all kinds kept coming in from all sides. Americans were being insulted in the street. The officers at the clubs were a little more arrogant in their studied politeness toward Edestone and his associates, the younger officers even taunting Lawrence with having to leave his girl in Berlin and go back to cow-punching.
Finally one of the papers reported that the entire American fleet was collecting at Hampton Roads, that all the German boats in New York had been dismantled by force, and broadly suggested that the Yankees were about to strike first and apologize afterward.
However, there came a slight rift in the clouds. Coming back one morning after a conference with the Chancellor, Jones was all smiles.
“Well, we are all right for a little while at least,” he announced. “The Chancellor has just informed me that the Emperor has decided to see you, Edestone, and he wishes to inspect here, at the Embassy, anything that you may like to show him. The Chancellor intimated that it would depend entirely upon your attitude on this occasion whether or not your mission to Europe was a failure or a brilliant success.”
“And when is he coming?” asked Edestone quickly.
Jones grinned. “With his usual impetuosity, he has selected tonight, and will pay the Embassy a formal call at nine o’clock, after the celebration at the Palace in honour of the birthday of one of the Royal princes.”
Edestone was delighted with the prospect of some action at last, but he had long since lost all hope of an amicable settlement. They had waited too long. He felt that they were preparing to strike, and should they do so it made him sick to think of the awful consequences. He was almost tempted to tell Jones of the wireless instrument in the penthouse and his daily communications with “Specs,” but he remembered that he had no right to involve him as a representative of the United States, and that, as the matter stood, he and Lawrence were the only culprits.
He did not care to destroy the roseate hopes of the Secretary after his conference with the Chancellor, and contented himself with saying: “William, I hope that you are right, but I have an impression that we are in for it. I am prepared to meet any game that they may play, but I do sincerely hope that I shall not be forced to it.”
By seven o’clock that evening the streets for blocks around the Embassy were filled with soldiers, and Edestone smiled when looking from the window he noticed that the Germans were bringing up anti-aircraft guns.
“They are taking no chances,” he thought to himself, his curiosity aroused as he noticed several large mortars being brought up and so placed that each battery of four could throw their shells in parallel lines over the Embassy to the north, south, east, and west. This struck him as very strange, but he became even more interested when he perceived that besides the ordinary ammunition wagon each gun was provided with a trailer that looked like a big wheel or drum on a two-wheeled carriage, although it was so carefully covered over that he could not make out exactly what it was.
“I have got to find out what those things are,” said Edestone to himself, and taking his hat and cane, he left the Embassy as if for a short stroll before dinner.
The soldiers took no notice of him as he sauntered along, and allowed him to inspect everything at his will until he approached the strange-looking mortars. Then he was stopped by a young officer, who told him in a very polite but firm tone that he would have to pass on and could not go by that way, at the same time showing him where he could walk around the block.
“I would give a good deal to know what those things are,” muttered Edestone to himself. “In fact, I must know before the night is over.”
He went back into the house, after strolling about for a quarter of an hour, and for the first time since he had left the Little Place in the Country, he became really anxious.
“These are wonderful people. They evidently are satisfied now that they have the answer, and who knows but they may have. All may yet be lost.”
He sat down and drove his brain as he had never driven it before. He wondered if he could get the Secretary to demand what all this preparation meant, and what these new death-dealing instruments might be that were threatening the Embassy of the United States; but that was useless, he knew. They would reply that it was to protect the Emperor, or would simply refuse to answer, or answering would lie.
After waiting until it was time to dress for dinner, in a fit of desperation he sent for Lawrence.
“Lawrence,” he said, “have you seen those mortars out there?”
“Yes,” replied Lawrence, “I did. They take no chances with the ‘Big Noise.’”
“Don’t joke, Lawrence. This is serious; very serious. Did you notice those two-wheeled wagons that are so carefully covered with canvas just behind each of the mortars?”
“No, to tell you the truth, I did not. They have so many travelling soup wagons and ice plants that I don’t pay any attention to those things any more.”
“Well, Lawrence, I’ve got to know what they are tonight in order that I may be prepared; otherwise we may find ourselves in a very serious situation, and what is much more important, my whole life’s work may be absolutely lost.”
“Now, since you put it that way,” said Lawrence with a broad grin, “I will step out and in my most polite Deutsch inquire.”
“They will not let you get within a block of them. Do you think it will be possible to persuade one of the German servants to find out from the soldiers? I would pay any price.”
“Well, I will dress myself like the cook and go out and flirt with one of the soldiers for $2. I’m a little badly off for money myself just about this time.”
“Lawrence, you must stop joking. I tell you, something must be done.”
“Leave me think, leave me think,” said the irrepressible. “Donnerwetter, I have it! What time does the Hohenzollern Glee Club arrive?”
“At nine o’clock.”
“And you come on immediately after the ‘First Part,’ succeeding which I suppose Lohengrin will sing his Duck Ditty, while the Boy Scout, dressed as Uncle Tom’s Cabin, after biting the triggers off all the guns, and pulling his wig well down over his eyes”—imitating the action—“will sally forth into the limpid limelights, and after he has been shot once in the face by a 16-inch howitzer and has been played upon in the rear by a battery of machine guns, he will limp on with the regular limp of the old Virginia servant and die at your feet, but not until I have whispered their secret into the heel of your boot.”
Edestone had known Lawrence long enough to understand that all of this nonsense meant that his really bright mind was working, and that he had some definite plan in view. The best way to handle him, he had found out, was to let his exuberance of spirit have free swing, so he replied in the same melodramatic manner: “Good, my faithful District Messenger Boy. Now in what way can I assist you in your wonderful scheme?”
“Leave all to me, Lord Reginald Bolingbroke, and before the clock on yon ‘back drop’ strikes eight bells, you will know what is hidden beneath these veils of mystery.”
“I can depend upon you,” Edestone eyed him searchingly, “and no mistake?”
“On the life of me mother who lies dead beneath the sacred soil of dear old Idaho!” With a wave of an imaginary sword, and jumping astride an imaginary stick horse, he saluted and galloped from the room, singing “It’s a Long Way to Tipperary.”
“I wonder what that dare-devil is up to,” thought Edestone. Nevertheless he believed that Lawrence would accomplish his purpose.
Presently his attention was attracted by the beams of a searchlight crossing the window, and looking out he saw those great white arms stretching up from every part of the city.
“They expect me to show my teeth tonight,” he said.
The distant tapping of drums showed that troops were moving in all parts of Berlin, and they were beginning to form in the streets below. It was easy to see by which route the Emperor was coming, or at least by which route he wished the people to think he was going to arrive.
Edestone dressed hurriedly, although James seemed to think that something extra should be done.
“Beg pardon, sir,” he pleaded in an accent which would have meant imprisonment for him if heard on the streets outside, “but these here barbarians likes a bit of colour, sir. I understands as how the Emperor calls the Ambassador the ‘undertaker,’ sir, and it’s all on account, sir, of his not a-having any lace on his coat, sir. Don’t you think you might wear some of your Colonial Society medals and decorations, sir?” and he tried hard to hide his contempt for these American signs of alleged aristocracy. “There is some as is bright in colour, sir, and he wouldn’t know, sir, but as how you is a duke in America, sir.”
“None of that nonsense, James, unless,” he said with a quizzical look, “you give me the copy of the Golden Fleece, which shows that I am a member in good standing of the South Chicago Aero Club.”
“Not that one, sir,” protested James, “if you will pardon me, sir, I think it is a bit large, sir, for the waistcoat opening, sir. I think, sir, that the Order of the Cincinnati is very neat, sir. It is very much like one of the Greek Orders, I don’t recall which, sir, but Lord Knott wore it once, I recall, sir, when the King of Greece was in London, sir.”
“No, James,” Edestone shook his head. “My father was a blacksmith, and I would not like to deceive the Emperor.”
“How you do like your little joke, sir,” said James, putting his hand to his mouth. “Won’t you just use that button, sir, instead of a buttonhole? It ain’t so frivolous like, sir, begging your pardon, sir.”
“Oh well, yes; just to keep you quiet.”
“Thank you, sir.”
And Edestone left the room.
Downstairs, the household was in a state of suppressed excitement. The German men servants, without the usual protection of a brilliant uniform, looked as if they would like to drop everything and hide themselves in the coal cellar. The maids were almost on the verge of tears. Mrs. Jones, with all the jewelry on that she possessed, was moving about with a flushed face seeing that everything was in order.
“For Heaven’s sake, hurry up, Jack,” she said. “We must have a short dinner and be ready when the Emperor arrives. As for myself, I never can touch anything for hours before I meet him. He scares me almost out of my wits.”
Her husband was walking up and down with the expression of a man who is the speaker of the evening, watching the waiters serving coffee and passing cigars. The only persons who seemed perfectly at their ease were Lawrence and his Bowery boy valet, Fred, who were holding a very serious conversation in the corner of the hall.
Dinner, it must be confessed, was very like the gathering of the distant relatives the night before the funeral of the rich old maid of the family. Lawrence’s jokes were either not heard or were received with sad-eyed contortions of the face that were less like a smile than the premonition of a sneeze. The strain was so great that as they were having their coffee a sudden clatter in the street came as an immense relief.
The air was instantly filled with the subdued noise of the different members of the household taking their various places. The Acting Ambassador and Mrs. Jones went out of the dining-room and took a position near the door of the large reception room, leaving Edestone and Lawrence alone. They had previously explained to Edestone what he must do when they notified him that it was time for him to come in and be presented.
“Lawrence,” he said when the servants had all gone, “won’t you tell me what you have decided on? I am rather curious to know your plan.”
Lawrence, who had grown quite serious for him, came around from his place and lighting a cigarette sat down close to him.
“You know Prince Fritz Funk?” he leaned over to whisper.
“Of course,” said Edestone.
“Well,” continued Lawrence, “I’m supposed to look something like him. I am just his height. He has, as you know, certain striking mannerisms, which when he is drinking are accentuated. I have all last year been amusing the officers at the clubs by giving imitations of him, and they do say I am better than he is himself.
“Now all the soldiers stationed in and about Berlin know Fritzie’s peculiarities, so I propose to impersonate him tonight while he is in here drinking the Ambassador’s champagne. My man is to get his helmet, ‘avec le grand panache,’ and his long gray-blue military cape, and with my riding boots and spurs and a sword, I shall be able to fool those boobs out there; that is, if they don’t throw on me one of those damned spot lights. If they do, G-o-o-d-n-i-g-h-t! Then I can only say that I am doing it on a bet. But I hardly think that would save me in these times. The least I could expect would be a term in prison for insulting the uniform. I will go down in history as ‘Little Boy Blue up in the air.’”
“It’s a big risk you’re taking,” frowned Edestone, “and were there any other way I would not allow you to do this. But if you do succeed, you will go down in history in a way you could never dream. Lawrence, if you get back safely with this information, I will make you a present of $1,000,000.”
Lawrence looked at his friend as if he thought that he had lost his mind, but when he saw the look of determination on Edestone’s strong face, which seemed to have aged within the hour, and when he felt the grip of his powerful hand, he knew that he meant every word he said.
“By God, old man,” he said with a little break in his voice, “you should be the Emperor instead of his nibs out there.”
“I may be yet,” said Edestone smiling, and a look came on his face that Lawrence had never seen there before.
The servants were moving quietly about the room, but it was plain to see that they felt the presence of the Lord’s Anointed. Through the house could be heard the clatter of many swords and the tramping of booted heels along the marble hall. It sent a thrill through Edestone that he would have had difficulty to explain. It was like the echo of some far distant past seeming to recall to life a sleeping spirit, which with great exultation was throwing off the fetters of its long slumbers. He seemed to be impelled by an almost irresistible force to rush into their midst and take his rightful position at their head.
He was recalled to himself by the sudden silence that had fallen on the entire house, as though some great army had been halted and was standing at rigid attention. Then he heard the silvery tinkle and metallic clink of sabre and spurs as of a single figure striding with military precision over the softest of carpets, and he could picture that majestic form advancing well in front of his glittering escort as they stood in breathless silence while he made his dramatic entrance.
Then the silence was broken by a voice which said slowly and distinctly: “His Imperial Majesty.” An almost simultaneous click followed as if all had come to a salute and were waiting for the sign to relax and from automatons become human beings again.
Edestone was all alone in the dining-room.
The servants had left the room after removing the table decorations, covering it with a dark cloth and setting a large bowl of flowers in the centre; and Lawrence had gone out quietly on hearing the noise in the hall.
And so he sat, this young man in a strange land, thousands of miles away from his home, waiting to be called to a death struggle, without help from anyone, with the most powerful, arrogant, and relentless man on the face of the earth, an adversary surrounded by the most perfect fighting machine yet devised by man, with all the confidence, that tradition, success, and a brilliant mind could give. An Emperor with the sublime dignity of his position which he sincerely believed he held by Divine Right, and who had always lived surrounded by an atmosphere of absolute submission to his will.
Yet Edestone was not afraid. He was not even nervous. He was merely anxious to be up and doing. This show of force, those mysterious two-wheeled wagons, had roused his fighting blood. So assured was he of his own sincerity in his efforts for the good of all that he resented the attitude which they had taken. He knew they would try to get his invention peaceably, if possible, but would stop at nothing if they failed, and he expected some overt act of violence tonight that would mean war with the United States.
So when he was called by one of the under-secretaries of the Embassy he went with little charity in his heart, but with head erect and determination shown in his every movement, bearing on his face, which seemed to have grown very hard, a look that left no doubt of the fearlessness of the spirit that was behind it.
He was taken in at one end of the large room that vibrated with light and colour. Around three sides of it was banked the most brilliant array of uniforms that he had ever seen. There were white-headed generals ablaze with decorations and medals; there were young princes with simple uniforms and with but one handsome decoration to show their distinguished rank. There were Cuirassiers and Uhlans, and now and then he could pick out the sombre black and silver uniforms of the celebrated Death’s-Head Hussars.
But the one figure which dominated all and held his attention was that of the Emperor.
He stood in the centre of the room with the Secretary and General von Lichtenstein, Mrs. Jones having retired as soon as she had received her distinguished guest.
He was a man of medium height but with a bearing which made him appear larger than he really was. He was dressed in the wonderful white uniform of the Garde du Corps, which carried with it the celebrated silver eagle helmet.
As this figure dominated and held the centre of this brilliant picture, so his face drew the attention from his magnificent uniform and held it as with a magnetic power. It was handsome, intelligent, strong, but above all it was commanding. There was little kindness but there was a merry twinkle in his sharp blue eyes which showed a human side and was most attractive.
These eyes could change, however, and when he saw Edestone and they were met by his perfectly fearless but respectful glance, they seemed to try by force to penetrate his very soul.
Edestone advanced alone until he came to within a few paces of the central group, and then stopped, standing with one knee slightly bent, his right hand held lightly in front of his body, which was inclined in a graceful and easy attitude of reverence, while his other hand hung naturally at his side.
After his first quick glance, Edestone dropped his eyes to about the Emperor’s knees and held them there until the Secretary, with a slight gesture, called him to his side. The young man then straightened up and went slowly to the Ambassador’s left, and there stood perfectly erect looking straight at the Emperor, while Jones with some show of embarrassment was saying:
“Your Majesty, may I present Mr. John Fulton Edestone, of New York.”
The Emperor, with the hearty and easy manner which he always assumes with those he has been told are distinguished Americans and with that quizzical expression in his sharp eyes which, though attractive, is described as most disconcerting, replied.
“Mr. Edestone,” he said, in a loud voice, “your fame has gone before you, and we are always glad to welcome distinguished men of science in Berlin, which we think is the centre of science and culture. Your name, that of a great lighthouse and suggesting the greatest of your inventions, electric lights, convinces me that you were born to blaze the way for us,” and he laughed, in which he was joined heartily by his well-trained courtiers, who knew that nothing pleased him more than to appreciate his little jokes of which he was so fond.
With his quick eye for detail he had caught the Cincinnati button worn by Edestone, and said:
“I see that you are the descendant of a soldier, which gives you a greater claim upon my imperial favour. What was your ancestor’s rank?”
“He was a general, Your Majesty,” replied Edestone with a firmness that seemed to attract and slightly offend him.
He scowled. He was so accustomed to seeing strong men quail before him that the coolness of the other man shocked his sense of propriety. “General von Lichtenstein tells me,” his face brightening up again, “that you have made a very interesting invention, which may be of great service to me in bringing to a successful end sooner than I had expected this cruel war, which has been forced upon me by those grasping English. He tells me that you have motion pictures of this invention in actual war practice, which the representative of the American Ambassador has so kindly invited me here to see.”
Turning to Jones, he said with great show of condescension: “I thank you, Mr. Secretary.” Then looking at Edestone sharply, and with rather a sarcastic turn in his voice, he continued: “I will gladly see your pictures, and what is perhaps of more interest to you, no doubt, I will, if I like it, buy your invention at a good price.”
And then, as if addressing the entire company, who stood waiting to applaud his every sentiment, he said: “Germany expects and is able to pay large prices for American goods now.” And then, as if to cut short any possible protest that Edestone might presume to make, he turned his back upon him and said very abruptly to the Secretary: “Where are these pictures?”
“In the next room,” replied the Secretary, “and if you please, Mr. Edestone will show them to Your Majesty at once. Edestone,” he said, “has everything been arranged?”
“Yes,” nodded Edestone. Though boiling with rage he kept a perfectly calm exterior.
The entire company led by the Emperor and the Secretary moved into another room where Black had installed the apparatus.
Edestone, with his usual modesty, had obliterated himself, and bringing up the rear was about to go around through the other rooms to reach his place in front of the screen when his attention was called by General von Lichtenstein, who had fallen back apparently with the intention of speaking to him apart from the others.
“Mr. Edestone,” he said, drawing him aside, “one would think that you had spent your entire life among us,” and with a quizzical smile he added: “I think you rather astonished the Kaiser by your sang-froid. I have seen men of the highest rank stand speechless in his presence, while you are as finished as a courtier of the Grand Monarque and as cool as the Iron Chancellor.
“I admit,” he said in his fatherly manner, “I had no authority from you to do so, but thought it best to leave upon the Emperor the impression that you would sell your invention. Had I not done so he certainly would have demanded the reasons for your presence in Berlin, and had I dared to suggest that you had been sent by the United States to coerce him he would have been thrown into such a rage that he might have declared war on your country, which I understand is the last thing that you want.”
“I regret that you did this, General von Lichtenstein, if I may be pardoned for seeming to criticize a statesman of your experience and distinction; for I do not intend to sell and my country has not sent me to coerce. I have come instead to appeal to your reason, after showing you the uselessness of continuing this loss of life in the face of the great power in the hands of those who know the secret of my invention and intend to put a stop to it.”
A cloud seemed to pass over the General’s face, but he soon recovered his bland, almost Oriental smile.
“But, Mr. Edestone, you seem to forget that whereas others may have the secret, we know that you certainly have it, and you are still our most honoured guest in Berlin.”
“Where I am also the guest of my own country, so long as the Acting Ambassador is so kind as to allow me to remain under his roof and our flag,” replied Edestone pointedly, intending if possible to force the General’s hand.
In this he failed as the old man only smiled through his glasses.
“A great statesman was lost when you turned inventor, Mr. Edestone,” he said in a most complimentary tone. “But come, I fear His Majesty waits.” And then changing his manner, he said with a knowing wink:
“Here is a note which Princess Wilhelmina asked me to deliver to you. She seems to be very much interested. Can it be possible that you are raising your eyes to a Princess of the Blood?
“Still, stranger things than that have happened,” he half mused, “and His Imperial Majesty is always glad to recognize talent and reward it in a befitting manner.”
They went into the other room where the Emperor sat waiting. Evidently impatient that Edestone was not at his position of parlour entertainer in front of the screen with his pointer in hand as soon as the Imperial eye should deign to be cast in that direction, he rose with exaggerated politeness when the American appeared and said in a most sarcastic manner: “Must the whole world wait while inventors dream?”
Then sitting down he added in a harsh and irritable tone: “With your very kind assistance, Mr. Edestone, we will now inspect these much talked of pictures.”
There was a silence in the room that was like a gasp of horror, and the company all standing looked as if they expected to see Edestone sink to the floor with mortification; that is, all except Jones, who slow-moving had only gotten half-way to his feet when the Kaiser sat down, and who now dropped back into his chair with a quizzical little smile playing about the corners of his mouth.
But Edestone, with the respectful manner of a grown man answering his father, who still looked upon him as a boy, and who had reproved him unjustly, said with an indulgent smile that bore no trace of resentment:
“I beg that Your Majesty will forgive me, but I was held prisoner by General von Lichtenstein, and not until I waved the Stars and Stripes would he let me go.”
The General hurried over to the Emperor. “Pardon me, Sire,” he said, for he saw that the Emperor would fly into one of his fits of rage and might upset all of their well-laid plans if something was not quickly done to quiet him. “Pardon me, Sire, it was my fault. I did not know that I was keeping Your Majesty waiting.”
“Go on with the pictures,” said the Emperor, with an impatient gesture of his enormous right hand, and he sat glaring at the screen as the lights went out.